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the limbs
the steel limbs
charge the bolt,
super charge the ball,
go
come
Is this meant to keep the other residents out or the mages inside? Finn wondered.
The answer is, "both."
And Finn knew better than most that there were few useful applications of his affinity besides blowing stuff up.
There would be many constructive applications of the ability to control thermal energy. The simplest would be cooking and food preservation. Pull the thermal energy out of an object, or volume of space,and it freezes — freeze drid foods keep for a long time.
theory.
hypothesis.
Yet fear is the death of passion. I cannot let it prevent me from moving forward.
Also the death of confidence.
theory
hypothesis
through
over
that
who
seat
"sweat" may be the intended word "seat" definitely makes no sense.
green fog
green and yellow fog
green haze.
green and yellow haze.
leaching into the ground.
pooling on the glass.
had been
hadn’t been
Die to the
Die by the hands of the
longer
further
slinked
slunk
How many “heat levels” does it take to get to the center of this strange, dense metal?
3, the answer is always 3.
built a sawblade,”
a circular sawblade,”
ten-foot square.
ten-foot by ten-foot square.
my sight.
my mana sight.
the fight,
their last fight,
Besides, I have found over my years of study that while inspiration is often mercurial and elusive, persistence is often the best way to conjure it.
“Your kind’s memories are tricky things,” she said finally. “They are like oil paintings. Even the first draft is an impression, an imperfect recreation of the event itself. Yet each time you access those memories, you paint a new layer overtop the old, adding small changes and tweaks. Those alterations grow and compound on themselves over time until the current painting almost doesn’t resemble the original.” She peered at him, her eyes burning. “However, the original painting still exists under all of those layers of self-deceit.
CBT does somthing similar when we reprocess past traumatic events.
He sure as hell couldn’t change what had already happened. But he could make a choice about how he moved forward. That he could control.
wreaked
wraught
females
female ants
female
female ant
as
to
finishing
winning
complete
win
“We’re strongest when we’re working together, leaning on the synergies between our skills and abilities.
This is always true of any group of humans.
ruins or
ruins, or
down into his eyes and
down his face and
(He doesn't have eyes anymore.)
through
from
Finn’s companions stared at him, mulling on that “gem” of information.
Very punny!
“Plus, Bilel’s writings mentioned the possibility that the relic had been broken into two pieces. So, there’s at least a chance the Emir can’t do anything with it – assuming he doesn’t already have the other piece, of course.” The earth mage grimaced and let out a frustrated sigh.
The Emir's staff is the second piece — which is so obvious that all three should immediately recognize it.
Najmat Alhidad,”
“Najmat Alhidad,” or “Quisatch Hadarak,” or “a Messiah,” by any other name, would bring the same war and chaos.
The Mourning Star.
Incidently that is one of the titles attributed to Satan.
The librarian paused for a moment, his gaze drifting away from Finn. “I told you once, long ago, that a man faces two questions in life. Do you remember them?” Finn nodded. He hadn’t forgotten that conversation. “What is your goal? And what are you willing to sacrifice for it?”
passed
past
And yet… the energy felt wrong somehow, although he couldn’t quite place why it seemed off.
Because his name was Bilal and all six of his affinities are sitting somewhere over 80%.
the energy almost blinding, and he had to force himself not to squint.
He can squint? His eyelids regrew?
As I have always said, fear is the death of passion. The true test of a man is his willingness to stare into the void within his own heart.”
Psychotherapy pushes one to do just this.
Finn’s eyes widened, earning him a harsh chuckle from Bilel.
Again, he has eyelids?
The pain was excruciating, and his eyes squeezed shut,
Eyelids!
You blame your passions for your own bad decisions, pointing at your anger, pain, fear, hope, and longing and bemoaning your lack of choice. But that’s just an excuse. The same excuse you used for ignoring your daughter’s pain – for imploding in on yourself like a dying star in the wake of your wife’s death. And the same excuse you hurl back in my face now. “Because it’s easier than facing the ugly truth. “That each and every one of you are responsible for your own decisions. “And for your own mistakes.”
